A Sermon
(No. 15)
Delivered on Sabbath Evening, March 18, 1855, by the
REV. C.H. SPURGEON
At Exeter Hall, Strand.
"I have written to him the great things of my law; but they were
counted as a strange thing."–Hosea 8:12
This is God's complaint against Ephraim. It is no mean proof of his
goodness, that he stoops to rebuke his erring creatures; it is a great
argument of his gracious disposition, that he bows his head to notice
terrestrial affairs. He might, if he pleased, wrap himself with might
as with a garment; he might put the stars around his wrist for
bracelets, and bind the suns around his brow for a coronet; he might
dwell alone, far, far above this world, up in the seventh heaven, and
look down with calm and silent indifference upon all the doings of his
creatures; he might do as the heathens supposed their Jove did, sit in
perpetual silence, sometimes nodding his awful head to make the fates
move as he pleased, but never taking thought of the little things of
earth, disposing of them as beneath his notice, engrossed with his own
being, swallowed up within himself, living alone and retired; and I, as
one of his creatures, might stand by night upon a mountain-top, and
look upon the silent stars and say, "Ye are the eyes of God, but ye
look not down on me; your light is the gift of his omnipotence, but
your rays are not smiles of love to me. God, the mighty Creator, has
forgotten me; I am a despicable drop in the ocean of creation, a sear
leaf in the forest of beings, an atom in the mountain of existence. He
knows me not; I am alone, alone, alone." But it is not so, beloved. Our
God is of another order. He notices every one of us; there is not a
sparrow or a worm but is found in his decrees. There is not a person
upon whom his eye is not fixed. Our most secret acts are known to him.
Whatsoever we do, or bear, or suffer, the eye of God still rests upon
us, and we are beneath his smile–for we are his people; or beneath his
frown–for we have erred from him.
Oh! how ten-thousand-fold merciful is God, that, looking down upon the
race of man, he does not smite it our of existence. We see from our
text that God looks upon man; for he says of Ephraim, "I have written
to him the great things of my law, but they were counted as a strange
thing." But see how, when he observes the sin of man, he does not dash
him away and spurn him with his foot; he does not shake him by the neck
over the gulf of hell, until his brain doth reel and then drop him
forever; but rather, he comes down from heaven to plead with his
creatures; he argues with them; he puts himself, as it were, upon a
level with the sinner–states his grievances and pleads his claim. O
Ephraim, I have written unto thee the great things of my law, but they
have been unto thee as a strange thing! I come here to-night in God's
stead, my friends, to plead with you as God's ambassador, to charge
many of you with a sin; to lay it to your hearts by the power of the
Spirit, so that you may be convinced of sin, of righteousness, and of a
judgment to come. The crime I charge you with is the sin of the text.
God has written to you the great things of his law, but they have been
unto you as a strange thing. It is concerning this blessed book, the
Bible, that I mean to speak tonight. Here lies my text–this Word of
God. Here is the theme of my discourse, a theme which demands more
eloquence than I possess; a subject upon which a thousand orators might
speak at once; a mighty, vast, and comprehensive theme, which might
engross all eloquence throughout eternity, and still it would remain
unexhausted.
Concerning the Bible, I have three things to say to-night, and they are
all in my text. First, its author, "I have written;" secondly, its
subjects–the great things of God's law; and thirdly, its common
treatment–it has been accounted by most men a strange thing.
I. First, then, concerning this book: Who is the author? The text says
that it is God. "I have written to him the great things of my law."
Here lies my Bible–who wrote it? I open it, and find it consists of a
series of tracts. The first five tracts were written by a man called
Moses; I turn on, and I find others. Sometimes I see David is the
penman, at other times Solomon. Here I read Micah, then Amos, then
Hosea. As I turn further on, to the more luminous pages of the New
Testament, I see Matthew, Mark, Luke, and John, Paul, Peter, James, and
others; but when I shut up the book; I ask myself, who is the author of
it? Do these men jointly claim the authorship? Are they the compositors
of this massive volume? Do they between themselves divide the honor?
Our holy religion answers, No! This volume is the writing of the living
God; each letter was penned with an Almighty finger; each word in it
dropped from the everlasting lips; each sentence was dictated by the
Holy Spirit. Albeit, that Moses was employed to write his histories
with his fiery pen, God guided that pen. It may be that David touched
his harp, and let sweet Psalms of melody drop from his fingers; but God
moved his hands over the living strings of his golden harp. It may be
that Solomon sang canticles of love, or gave forth words of consummate
wisdom, but God directed his lips, and made the preacher eloquent. If I
follow the thundering Nahum, when his horses plough the waters, or
Habakkuk, when he sees the tents of Cushan in affliction; if I read
Malachi, when the earth is burning like an oven; if I turn to the
smooth page of John, who tells of love, or the rugged, fiery chapters
of Peter, who speaks of fire devouring God's enemies; if I turn to
Jude, who launches forth anathemas upon the foes of God, everywhere I
find God speaking; it is God's voice, not man's; the words are God's
words, the words of the Eternal, the Invisible, the Almighty, the
Jehovah of this earth. This Bible is God's Bible, and when I see it, I
seem to hear a voice springing up from it, saying, "I am the book of
God; man, read me. I am God's writing; open my leaf, for I was penned
by God; read it, for he is my author, and you will see him visible and
manifest everywhere." "I have written to him the great things of my
law."
How do you know that God wrote the book? That is just what I shall not
try to prove to you. I could if I pleased, demonstrate it, for there
are arguments enough, there are reasons enough, did I care to occupy
your time to-night in bringing them before you; but I shall do no such
thing. I might tell you, if I pleased, that the grandeur of the style
is above that of an mortal writing, and that all the poets who have
ever existed could not, with all their works united, give us such
sublime poetry and such mighty language as is to be found in the
Scriptures. I might insist upon it, that the subjects of which it
treats are beyond the human intellect; that man could never have
invented the grand doctrines of a Trinity in the Godhead; man could not
have told us anything of the creation of the universe; he could never
have been the author of the majestic idea of Providence–that all
things are ordered according to the will of one great Supreme Being,
and work together for good. I might enlarge upon its honesty, since it
tells the faults of its writers; its unity, since it never belies
itself; its master simplicity, that he who runs may read it; and I
might mention a hundred more things, which would all prove, to a
demonstration, that the book is of God. But I come not here to prove
it. I am a Christian minister, and you are Christians, or profess to be
so; and there is never any necessity for Christian ministers to make a
point of bringing forward infidel arguments in order to answer them. It
is the greatest folly in the world. Infidels, poor creatures, do not
know their own arguments till we tell them, and then they glean their
blunted shafts to shoot them at the shield of truth again. It is follow
to bring forward these firebrands of hell, even if we are well prepared
t quench them. Let men of the world learn error of themselves; do not
let us be propagators of their falsehoods. True, there are some
preachers who are short of stock, and want to fill them up; but God's
own chosen men need not do that; they are taught of God, and God
supplies them with matter, with language, with power. There may be some
one here to-night who has come without faith, a man of reason, a
freethinker. With him I have no argument at all. I profess not to stand
here as a controversialist, but as a preacher of things that I know and
feel. But I too, have been like him. There was an evil hour when I once
shipped the anchor of my faith; I cut the cable of my belief; I no
longer moored myself hard by the coasts of Revelation; I allowed my
vessel to drift before the wind; I said to reason, "Be thou my
captain;" I said to my own brain, "Be thou my rudder;" and I started on
my mad voyage. Thank God, it is all over now; but I will tell you its
brief history. It was one hurried sailing over the tempestuous ocean of
free thought. I went on, and as I went, the skies began to darken; but
to make up for that deficiency, the waters were brilliant with
coruscations of brilliancy. I saw sparks flying upward that pleased me,
and I thought, "If this be free thought, it is a happy thing." My
thoughts seemed gems, and I scattered stars with both my hands; but
anon, instead of these coruscations of glory, I saw grim fiends, fierce
and horrible, start up from the waters, and as I dashed on, they
gnashed their teeth, and grinned upon me; they seized the prow of my
ship and dragged me on, while I, in part, gloried at the rapidity of my
motion, but yet shuddered at the terrific rate with which I passed the
old landmarks of my faith. As I hurried forward, with an awful speed, I
began to doubt my very existence; I doubted if there were a world, I
doubted if there was such a thing as myself. I went to the very verge
of the dreary realms of unbelief. I went to the very bottom of the sea
of Infidelity. I doubted everything. But here the devil foiled himself:
for the very extravagance of the doubt, proved its absurdity. Just when
I saw the bottom of that sea, there came a voice which said, "And can
this doubt be true?" At this very thought I awoke. I started from that
deathdream, which, God knows might have damned my soul, and ruined
this, my body, if I had not awoke. When I arose, faith took the helm;
from that moment I doubted not. Faith steered me back; faith cried,
"Away, away!" I cast my anchor on Calvary; I lifted my eye to God; and
here I am, "alive, and out of hell." Therefore, I speak what I do know.
I have sailed that perilous voyage; I have come safe to land. Ask me
again to be an infidel! No; I have tried it; it was sweet at first, but
bitter afterwards. Now, lashed to God's gospel more firmly than ever,
standing as on a rock of adamant, I defy the arguments of hell to move
me; for "I know in whom I have believed, and am persuaded that he is
able to keep that which I have committed unto him." But I shall neither
plead nor argue this night. You profess to be Christian men, or else
you would not be here. Your professions may be lies; what you say you
are, may be the very contrary to what you really are; but still I
suppose you all admit that this is the Word of God. A thought or two
then upon it. "I have written to him the great things of my law."
First, my friends, stand over this volume, and admire its authority.
This is no common book. It is not the sayings of the sages of Greece;
here are not the utterances of philosophers of past ages. If these
words were written by a man, we might reject them; but O let me think
the solemn thought, that this book is God's handwriting–that these
words are God's! Let me look at its date; it is dated from the hills of
heaven. Let me look at its letters; they flash glory on my eye. Let me
read the chapters; they are big with meaning and mysteries unknown. Let
me turn over the prophecies; they are pregnant with unthought-of
wonders. Oh, book of books! And wast thou written by my God? Then will
I bow before thee. Thou book of vast authority! thou art a proclamation
from the Emperor of Heaven; far be it from me to exercise my reason in
contradicting thee. Reason, thy place is to stand and find out what
this volume means, not to tell what this book ought to say. Come thou,
my reason, my intellect, sit thou down and listen, for these words are
the words of God. I do not know how to enlarge on this thought. Oh! if
you could ever remember that this Bible was actually and really written
by God. Oh! if ye had been let into the secret chambers of heaven, if
ye had beheld God grasping his pen and writing down these letters–then
surely ye would respect them; but they are just as much God's
handwriting as if you had seen God write them. This Bible is a book of
authority; it is an authorized book, for God has written it. Oh!
tremble, lest any of you despise it; mark its authority, for it is the
Word of God.
Then, since God wrote it, mark its truthfulness. If I had written it,
there would be worms of critics who would at once swarm upon it, and
would cover it with their evil spawn; Had I written it, there would be
men who would pull it to pieces at once, and perhaps quite right too.
But this is the Word of God; come, search, ye critics, and find a flaw;
examine it, from its Genesis to its Revelation, and find an error. This
is a vein of pure gold, unalloyed by quartz, or any earthly substance.
This is a star without a speck; a sun without a blot; a light without
darkness; a moon without its paleness; a glory without a dimness. O
Bible! it cannot be said of any other book, that it is perfect and
pure; but of thee we can declare all wisdom is gathered up in thee,
without a particle of folly. This is the judge that ends the strife,
where wit and reason fail. This is the book untainted by any error; but
is pure, unalloyed, perfect truth. Why? Because God wrote it. Ah!
charge God with error if ye please; tell him that his book is not what
it ought to be. I have heard men, with prudish and mock-modesty, who
would like to alter the Bible; and (I almost blush to say it) I have
heard ministers alter God's Bible, because they were afraid of it. Have
you never heard a man say, "He that believeth and is baptized, shall be
saved; but he that believeth not"–what does the Bible say?–"Shall be
damned." But that does not happen to be polite enough, so they say,
"Shall be condemned." Gentlemen, pull the velvet out of your mouths;
speak God's word; we want none of your alterations. I have heard men in
prayer instead of saying, "Make your calling and election sure," say
"Make your calling and salvation sure." Pity they were not born when
God lived far–far back that they might have taught God how to write.
Oh, impudence beyond all bounds! Oh full-blown self-conceit! To attempt
to dictate to the All-wise–to teach the Omniscient and instruct the
Eternal. Strange that there should be men so vile as to use the
penknife of Jehoiakim to cut passages out of the word, because they are
unpalatable. O ye who dislike certain portions of Holy Writ, rest
assured that your taste is corrupt, and that God will not stay for you
little opinion. Your dislike is the very reason why God wrote it,
because you out not to be suited; you have no right to be pleased. God
wrote what you do not like; he wrote the truth. Oh! let us bend in
reverence before it, for God inspired it. It is pure truth. Here from
this fountain gushes aqua vitae–the water of life–without a single
particle of earth; here from this sun cometh forth rays of radiance,
without the mixture of darkness. Blessed Bible! thou art all truth.
Yet once more, before we leave this point, let us stop and consider the
merciful nature of God, in having written us a Bible at all. Ah! he
might have left us without it, to grope our dark way, as blind men seek
the wall; he might have suffered us to wander on with the star of
reason as our only guide. I recollect a story of Mr. Hume, who so
constantly affirmed that the light of reason is abundantly sufficient.
Being at a good minister's house one evening, he had been discussing
the question, and declaring his firm belief in the sufficiency of the
light of nature. On leaving, the minister offered to hold him a candle
to light him down the steps. He said "No; the light of nature would be
enough; the moon would do." It so happened that the moon was covered
with a cloud, and he fell down the steps. "Ah!" said the minister, "you
had better have had a little light from above, after all, Mr. Hume."
So, supposing the light of nature to be sufficient, we had better have
a little light from above too, and then we shall be sure to be right.
Better have two lights than only one. The light of creation is a bright
light. God may be seen in the stars; his name is written in gilt
letters on the brow of night; you may discover his glory in the ocean
waves, yea, in the trees of the field; but it is better to read it in
two books than in one. You will find it here more clearly revealed; for
he has written this book himself, and he has given you the key to
understand it, if you have the Holy Spirit. Ah, beloved, let us thank
God for this Bible; let us love it; let us count it more precious than
much fine gold.
But let me say one thing, before I pass on to the second point. If this
be the Word of God, what will become of some of you who have not read
it for the last month? "Month, sir! I have not read it for this year."
Ay, there are some of you who have not read it at all. Most people
treat the Bible very politely . They have a small pocket volume, neatly
bound; they put a white pocket-handkerchief round it and carry it to
their places of worship; when they get home, they lay it up in a drawer
till next Sunday morning; then it comes out again for a little bit of a
treat, and goes to chapel; that is all the poor Bible gets in the way
of an airing. That is your style of entertaining this heavenly
messenger. There is dust enough on some of your Bibles to write
"damnation" with your fingers. There are some of you who have not
turned over your Bibles for a long, long while, and what think you? I
tell you blunt words, but true words. What will God say at last? When
you shall come before him, he shall say, "Did you read my Bible?" "No."
"I wrote you a letter of mercy; did you read it?" "No." "Rebel! I have
sent thee a letter inviting thee to me; didst thou ever read it?"
"Lord, I never broke the seal; I kept it shut up." "Wretch!" says God,
"then, thou deservest hell, if I sent thee a loving epistle, and thou
wouldst not even break the seal; what shall I do unto thee?" Oh, let it
not be so with you. Be Bible-readers; be Bible
II. Our second point is: The subjects on which the Bible treats. The
words of the text are these: "I have written to him the great things of
my law." The Bible treats of great things, and of great things only.
there is nothing in this Bible which is unimportant. Every verse in it
has a solemn meaning; and if we have not found it out yet, we hope yet
to do it. You have seen mummies, wrapped round and round with folds of
linen. Well, God's Bible is like that; it is a vast roll of white
linen, woven in the loom of truth; so you will have to continue
unwinding it, roll after roll, before you get the real meaning of it
from the very depth; and when you have found, as you think, a part of
the meaning, you will still need to keep on unwinding, unwinding, and
all eternity you will be unwinding the words of this great volume. Yet
there is nothing in the Bible but great things. Let me divide, so as to
be more brief. First, all things in this Bible are great; but,
secondly, some things are the greatest of all.
All things in the Bible are great. Some people think it does not matter
what doctrines you believe; that it is immaterial what church you
attend; that all denominations are alike. Well, I dislike Mrs. Bigotry
above almost all people in the world, and I never give her any
compliment or praise; but there is another woman I hate equally as
much, and that is Mrs. Latitudinarianism–a well-known character, who
has made the discovery that all of us are alike. Now, I believe that a
man may be saved in any church. Some have been saved in the Church of
Rome–a few blessed men whose names I could mention here. I know,
blessed be God, what multitudes are saved in the Church of England; she
has a host of pious, praying men in her midst. I think that all
sections of Protestant Christians have a remnant according to the
election of grace; and they had need to have, some of them, a little
salt, for otherwise they would go to corruption. But when I say that,
do you imagine that I think them all on a level? Are they all alike
truthful? One sect says infant baptism is right; another says it is
wrong; yet you say they are both right. I cannot see that. One teaches
we are saved by free grace; another say us that we are not, but are
saved by free will; and yet you believe they are both right. I do not
understand that. One says that God loves his people, and never leaves
off loving them; another says that he did not love his people before
they loved him–that he often loves them, and then ceases to love them,
and turns them away. They may both be right in the main; but can they
both be right when one says "Yes," and the other says "No?" I must have
a pair of spectacles, to enable me to look backwards and forwards at
the same time, before I can see that. It cannot be, sirs, that they are
both right. But some say they differ upon non-essentials. This text
says, "I have written to him the great things of my law." There is
nothing in God's Bible which is not great. Did ever any of you sit down
to see which was the purest religion? "Oh," say you, "we never took the
trouble. We went just where our father and mother went." Ah! that is a
profound reason indeed. You went where you father and mother did. I
thought you were sensible people; I didn't think you went where other
people pulled you, but went of your own selves. I love my parents above
all that breathe, and the very thought that they believe a thing to be
true, helps me to think it is correct; but I have not followed them; I
belong to a different denomination, and I thank God that I do. I can
receive them as Christian brethren and sisters; but I never thought
that, because they happened to be one thing, I was to be the same. No
such thing. God gave me brains, and I will use them; and if you have
any intellect, use it too. Never say it doesn't matter. Whatever God
has put here is of eminent importance; he would not have written a
thing that was indifferent. Whatever is here is of some value;
therefore, search all questions, try all by the Word of God. I am not
afraid to have what I preach tried by this book. Only give me a fair
field and no favor, and this book; if I say anything contrary to it, I
will withdraw it the next Sabbath-day. By this I stand, by this I fall.
Search and see; but don't say, "it does not matter." If God says a
thing, it always must be of importance.
But, while all things in God's word are important, all are not equally
important. There are certain fundamental and vital truths which must be
believed, or otherwise no man would be saved. If you want to know what
you must believe, if ye would be saved, you will find the great things
of God's law between these two covers; they are all contained here. As
a sort of digest or summary of the great things of law, I remember an
old friend of mine once saying, "Ah! you preach the three R's, and God
will always bless you." I said, "What are the three R's?" and he
answered, "Ruin, redemption, and regeneration." They contain the sum
and substance of divinity. R for ruin. We were all ruined in the fall;
we were lost when Adam sinned, and we were all ruined by our own
transgressions; we are all ruined by our own evil hearts, and our own
wicked wills; and we all shall be ruined, unless grace saves us. Then
there is a second R for redemption. We are ransomed by the blood of
Christ, a lamb without blemish and without spot; we are rescued by his
power; we are ransomed by his merits; we are redeemed by his strength.
then there is R for regeneration. If we would be pardoned, we must also
be regenerated; for no man can partake of redemption unless he is
regenerate. Let him be as good as he pleases; let him serve God, as he
imagines, as much as he likes; unless he is regenerate, and has a new
heart, a new birth, he will still be in the first R, that is ruin.
These things contain an epitome of the gospel. I believe there is a
better epitome in the five points of Calvinism;–Election according to
the foreknowledge of God; the natural depravity and sinfulness of man;
particular redemption by the blood of Christ; effectual calling by the
power of the Spirit; and ultimate perseverance by the efforts of God's
might. I think all those need to be believed, in order to salvation;
but I should not like to write a creed like the Athanasian, beginning
with "Whosoever shall be saved, before all things it is necessary that
he should hold the Catholic faith, which faith is this,"–when I got so
far, I should stop, because I should not know what to write. I hold the
Catholic faith of the Bible, the whole Bible, and nothing but the
Bible. It is not for me to draw up creeds; but I ask you to search the
Scriptures, for this is the word of life.
God says, "I have written to him the great things of my law." Do you
doubt their greatness? Do ye think they are not worth your attention?
Reflect a moment, man. Where art thou standing now?
"Lo on a narrow neck of land,
'Twixt two unbounded seas I stand;
An inch of time, a moment's space,
May lodge me in yon heavenly place,
Or shut me up in hell."
I recollect standing on a seashore once, upon a narrow neck of land,
thoughtless that the tide might come up. The tide kept continually
washing up on either side, and, wrapped in thoughts, I stood there,
until at last there was the greatest difficulty in getting on shore.
You and I stand each day on a narrow neck, and there is one wave coming
up there; see, how near it is to your foot; and lo! another follows at
every tick of the clock; "Our hearts, like muffled drums, are beating
funeral marches to the tomb." We are always tending downwards to the
grave each moment that we live. This book tells me that if I am
converted, when I die, there is a heaven of joy and love to receive me;
it tells me that angels' pinions shall be stretched, and I, borne by
strong cherubic wings, shall out-soar the lightning, and mount beyond
the stars, up to the throne of God, to dwell forever.
"Far from a world of grief and sin,
With God eternally shut in."
Oh! it makes the hot tear start from my eye, it makes my heart too big
for this my body, and my brain whirls at the thought of
"Jerusalem, my happy home,
Name ever dear to me."
Oh! that sweet scene beyond the clouds; sweet fields arrayed in living
green, and rivers of delight. Are not these great things? But then,
poor unregenerate soul, the Bible says if thou are lost, thou art lost
forever; it tells thee that if thou diest without Christ, without God,
there is no hope for thee; that there is no place without a gleam of
hope, where thou shalt read, in burning letters, "Ye knew your duty,
but ye did it not;" it tells you, that ye shall be driven from his
presence with a "depart, ye cursed." Are these not great things? Yes,
sirs, as heaven is desirable, as hell is terrible, as time is short, as
eternity is infinite, as the soul is precious, as pain is to be
shunned, as heaven is to be sought, as God is eternal, and as his words
are sure, these are great things, things ye ought to listen to.
III. Our last point is: The treatment which the poor Bible receives in
this world; it is accounted a strange thing. What does that mean–the
Bible accounted a strange thing? In the first place, it means that it
is very strange to some people, because they never read it. I remember
reading, on one occasion, the sacred story of David and Goliath, and
there was a person present, positively grown up to years of maturity,
who said to me, "Dear me! what an interesting story; what book is that
in?" And I recollect a person once coming to me in private; I spoke to
her about her soul, she told me how deeply she felt, how she had a
desire t serve God, but she found another law in her members. I turned
to a passage in Romans, and read to her, "The good that I would I do
not; and the evil which I would not that I do!" She said, "Is that in
the Bible? I did not know it." I did not blame her, because she had no
interest in the Bible till then; but I did not wonder that there could
be found persons who knew nothing about such a passage. Ah! you know
more about your ledgers than your Bible; you know more about your
day-books than what God has written; many of you will read a novel from
beginning to end, and what have you got? A mouthful of froth when you
have done. But you cannot read the Bible; that solid, lasting,
substantial, and satisfying food goes uneaten, locked up in the
cupboard of neglect; while anything that man writes, a catch of the
day, is greedily devoured. "I have written to him the great things of
my law, but they were counted as a strange thing." Ye have never read
it. I bring the broad charge against you. Perhaps, ye say, I ought not
to charge you with any such thing. I always think it better to have a
worse opinion of you than too good an one. I charge you with this: you
do not read your Bibles. Some of you have never read it through. I know
I speak what your heart must say is honest truth. You are not Bible
readers. You say you have the Bible in your houses; do I think you are
such heathens as not to have a Bible? But when did you read it last?
How do you know that your spectacles, which you have lost, have not
been there for the last three years? Many people have not turned over
its pages for a long time, and God might say unto them, "I have written
unto you the great things of my law, but they have been accounted unto
you a strange thing."
Others there be who read the Bible; but when they read it, they say it
is so horribly dry. That young man over there says it is a "bore;" that
is the words he uses. He says, "My mother says to me, when you go up to
town, read a chapter every day. Well, I thought I would please her, and
I said I would. I am sure I wish I had not. I did not read a chapter
yesterday, or the day before. We were so busy, I could not help it."
You do not love the Bible, do you? "No, there is nothing in it which is
interesting." Ah, I thought so. But a little while ago I could not see
anything in it. Do you know why? Blind men cannot see, can they? But
when the Spirit touches the scales of the eyes, they fall off; and when
he puts eye-salves on, the Bible becomes precious. I remember a
minister who went to see an old lady, and he thought he would give her
some precious promises out of the word of God. Turning to one, he saw
written in the margin "P.," and he asked, "What does this mean?" "That
means precious, sir." Further down, he saw "T. and P.," and he asked
what the letters meant. "That," she said, "means tried and proved, for
I have tried and proved it." If you have tried God's word and proved
it–if it is precious to your soul. then you are Christians; but those
persons who despise the Bible, have "neither part nor lot in the
matter." If it is dry to you, you will be dry at last in hell. If you
do not esteem it as better than your necessary food, there is no hope
for you; for you lack the greatest evidence of your Christianity.
Alas! alas! the worst case is to come. There are some people who hate
the Bible, as well as despise it. Is there such an one stepped in here?
Some of you said, "Let us go and hear what the young preacher has to
say to us." This is what he has to say to you: "Behold, ye despisers,
and wonder and perish." This is what he hath to say to you: "The wicked
shall be turned into hell, and all that forget God." And this, again he
has to say to you: "Behold, there shall come in the last days, mockers,
like yourselves, walking after your own lusts." But more: he tells you
to-night that if you are saved, you must find salvation here.
Therefore, despise not the Bible; but search it, read it, and come unto
it. Rest thee will assured, O scorner, that thy laughs cannot alter
truth, thy jests cannot avert thine inevitable doom. Though in thy
hardihood thou shouldst make a league with death, and sign a covenant
with hell–yet swift justice shall o'ertake thee, and strong vengeance
strike the low. In vain dost thou jeer and mock, for eternal verities
are mightier than thy sophistries, nor can thy smart sayings alter the
divine truth of a single word of this volume of Revelation. Oh! why
dost thou quarrel with thy best friend, and ill-treat thy only refuge?
There yet remains hope, even for the scorner. Hope in a Saviour's
veins. Hope in the Father's mercy. Hope in the Holy Spirit's omnipotent
agency.
I have done when I have said one word. My friend, the philosopher, says
it may be very well for me to urge people to read the Bible; but he
thinks there are a great many sciences far more interesting and useful
than theology. Extremely obliged to you for your opinion, sir. What
science do you mean? The science of dissecting beetles and arranging
butterflies? "No," you say, "certainly not." The science, then, of
arranging stones, and telling us of the strata of the earth? "No, not
exactly that." Which science, then? "Oh, all sciences," say you, "are
better than the science of the Bible." Ah! sir, that is your opinion;
and it is because you are far from God, that you say so. But the
science of Jesus Christ is the most excellent of sciences. Let no one
turn away from the Bible because it is not a book of learning and
wisdom. It is. Would ye know astronomy? It is here: it tells you of the
Sun of Righteousness and the Star of Bethlehem. Would you know of
botany? It is here: it tells you of the plant of renown–the Lily of
the Valley, and the rose of Sharon. Would you know geology and
mineralogy? You shall learn it here: for you may read of the Rock of
Ages, and the White Stone with the name engraven thereon, which no man
knoweth saving he that receiveth it. Would ye study history? Here is
the most ancient of all the records of the history of the human race.
Whate'er your science is, come and bend o'er this book; your science is
here. Come and drink out of this fair fount of knowledge and wisdom,
and ye shall find yourselves made wise unto salvation. Wise and
foolish, babes and men, gray-headed sires, youths and maidens–I speak
to you, I plead with you, I beg of you respect your Bibles, and search
them out, for in them ye think ye have eternal life, and these are they
which testify of Christ.
I have done. Let us go home and practice what we have heard. I have
heard of a woman, who, when she was asked what she remembered of the
minister's sermon, said, "I don't recollect anything of it. It was
about short weights and bad measures, and I didn't recollect anything
but to go home and burn the bushel." So, if you will remember to go
home and burn the bushel, if you will recollect to go home and read
your Bibles, I shall have said enough. And may God, in his infinite
mercy, when you read your Bibles, pour into your souls the illuminating
rays of the Sun of Righteousness, by the agency of the ever-adorable
Spirit; then you will read to your profit and to your soul's salvation.
We may say of THE BIBLE:
"God's cabinet of revealed counsel t is!
Where weal and woe, are ordered so
That every man may know which shall be his;
Unless his own mistake, false application make.
"It is the index to eternity.
He cannot miss of endless bliss.
That takes this chart to steer by,
Nor can he be mistook that speaketh by this book.
"It is the book of God. What if I should
Say, God of books, let him that looks
Angry at that expression, as too bold,
His thoughts in silence smother, till he find such another."